she came to terms with what she’d witnessed. Not that Ben thought she’d ever get over such a sight, but he would comfort her for as long as it took. He’d seen the softer side of Abby MacLeod often enough to know that Kenzie’s time wasn’t as coarse, that the people of their time were not prone to such wars and violence. They no longer had to fight for survival in Scotland. They simply worked and lived with little trouble.
“I have his blood on me.”
“Aye, ye do.” He looked over to the slow flowing river. “Did ye want to wash it off?”
She looked toward the waterway but shook her head. “No, I just want to go home.” Kenzie looked up at him, and Ben had an overwhelming urge to protect her, to care for the woman in his arms, more so than any other woman ever.
He whistled for his horse and stood, carrying Kenzie to the beast’s side. He mounted and pulled her up before him, riding back to the house as fast as he could. A day that was supposed to be carefree and peaceful had turned into a nightmare.
As for the men who’d attacked them, he would be sending out Braxton’s men to see if any of them recognized who they were, before they buried the bodies.
Later that evening, he sat in the great hall, Braxton across from him, both quiet in contemplation.
“My men had never seen the men who attacked ye today. Granted they were wearing McDonnel tartan, but they could’ve stolen those, been deserters of another clan. I’ll send word to McDonnel to see if they’re missing any clansmen, and then we’ll know. But what concerns me more is why they attacked ye in the first place? Do ye know of anyone who would wish ye harm?”
“Nay, no one, although it seems someone has put a price on my head.” Ben thought on the attack and what it could bode for him in the future months. “They could’ve just been sayin’ that as well, to rattle me. Dinna forget I had Kenzie with me, and she’s a pretty morsel of flesh, if ever I saw one. They could’ve been after her.”
“Pretty morsel of flesh? Do we need to have a discussion as to why ye’re not allowed to court my great-too-many-times-to-count granddaughter?”
Ben met Braxton’s gaze and noted it was deadly serious. “What? I’m not good enough for ye bloodline? I think ye’re forgetting I’m a laird in my own right. I’ve not had my position bestowed on me because of who I married.”
“Watch yourself, Ben, or you’ll be finding yer ass out on my front stone step faster than ye can blink.”
“Will you two cease such stupidity? No one is kicking anyone out, and Ben, as much as we care for ye, consider ye a friend, Kenzie is not for you. Remember, she’s not staying for long, and it would be unwise of ye to form any sort of attachment to her.”
Ben downed his mead and poured another. It was too late not to form an attachment to the lass. He liked her, appreciated her company. Aye, the lass had a lovely face that just added to his pleasure when around her. “If ye think I’m going to fall in love with her, drop to my knees, and declare my life over the day she departs, ye daft in the head. I enjoy her company. That is all. There will be no further discussion on the matter.”
“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” Braxton said, still glaring.
“Braxton.” Gwen sighed, throwing her husband a quelling stare. “No matter what we say, or our reasoning behind it, Kenzie is a grown woman and will, I’m sure, make up her own mind as to who she allows courtship with. We cannot interfere in her life. It is not our place.”
“Ye would allow her to form feelings for someone not of her time?” Braxton whispered, looking about for servants.
Gwen sighed again. “Ye’re getting ahead of yourself and everything you are saying will probably never become an issue. Ben has stated he’s not interested in her in any romantic way, and from what I know of Kenzie’s feelings, she feels the same.”
“She said that?” A prickle of disappointment stabbed at him that Kenzie didn’t consider him in that light. He took another sip of mead, dismissing the madness in his head. “Getting back to what happened today, I think it would be best if ye placed some men on lookout and do a